Mulled Wine
by kuaizi
Summary: Someone finds Regis just before he leaves for Nilfgaard. And tempts him. Set after the events of the Blood and Wine DLC (Witcher 3), assuming [SPOILER FOLLOWS] that Dettlaff dies and Geralt finds out about what Orianna does at La Compassion Orphanage.


The echo of a familiar step, then a familiar voice, resounded in the dank cellar. "I thought I'd find you here."

Regis didn't turn around or look up from packing his things. "If you've come to kill me, I can't say I blame you. Although I must admit that I didn't think you'd go out of your way to hunt me down; you've known me longer and better than you'd known Dettlaff, have you not?"

A familiar breath next to his neck. "I didn't come to kill you."

Regis finally turned his face to look at his interlocutor. Winsome eyes, crinkled by the slightest hint of a smile, looked back at him. "Please," said Regis seriously, "I'm in a hurry."

"Why so cold, Regis?" Red hair brushed against his cheek as the voice retreated behind his back once more.

He slung his bag over his shoulder. "Well, why the sudden interest, Orianna?"

Orianna leaned against an open barrel. "I understand... You're in a hurry to leave Toussaint. You can't stay, naturally. But you've nothing to fear from me, old friend. I've come to tell you that I'm leaving, too. Since we only just had our reunion before the whole affair with Dettlaff and the witcher blew up, I thought it would be nice to come say a proper farewell before the four winds blow us apart again."

"Well, I suppose that would be nice," said Regis, his expression softening somewhat. "Although, my dear..."

"Please, Regis," Orianna interrupted, "I can tell when you're about to launch into one of your long speeches, even just three words in. Before you do so, let's at least settle down with a drink. It would at least fit the setting. Charming cellar, this." Orianna pulled out a bottle and two glasses from her bag and went to set them on a dusty table.

"Thank you. It wasn't a bad place to regenerate," said Regis, moving towards the table to join Orianna. He looked glum.

Orianna smiled. "Pity there's nothing left to sample here; I'm glad I brought something myself. Something special that I think you'll like. It's a kind of... mulled wine."

They sat down at the table. Regis watched in silence as Orianna uncorked the bottle and poured the wine into the glasses. The strong smell of mulling spices hit his nose and, inexplicably, made his mouth water. "That's quite the spice mixture you've got there," commented Regis. He took a deep, appreciative sniff. "Perhaps an exceptionally strong wine, too, or you've put in some spirit?"

"I'd love for you to try some," said Orianna, handing him a glass. "Perhaps it would help you unburden yourself."

"It's a shame," Regis muttered as he took the glass. "For a while, when I was still regenerating under Dettlaff's care, I thought I could eventually settle down here and come to enjoy the company of both humans and vampires. Alas," he said as he raised the glass to his lips, "now I go back to the company of those who would consider me a monster if they truly knew me—since my own consider me a monster as well, now."

Orianna raised her own glass to her thin lips and took a sip. She nodded sympathetically.

The glass in Regis's hand hovered near his lips without tipping towards his mouth. He was staring down at the table a little past the wine in his hand. "I really shouldn't try to drown my sorrows, as it were," he murmured to himself. "This wine is already loosening my tongue and I haven't even tasted it yet."

"Perhaps it's just the present company that's making you feel more at ease," said Orianna.

"Oh, on the contrary," Regis replied airily.

Orianna's eyes narrowed slightly even as a smile still played on her lips. "Regis..."

Regis set the glass down. "Excuse the poor joke. I don't know you as well as I did before, you know. It's been ages since we last were well acquainted. Why are you leaving Toussaint? I thought you had found yourself a comfortable niche here."

"I've tired of the soirees, the people. I'd like to make like a bruxa and hide out in a lonely forest." Orianna lost her smile for a moment and sighed.

"That doesn't sound like the Orianna I once knew," said Regis.

"And the Regis I once knew would have gladly sampled the wine I brought him," said Orianna pointedly.

Regis chuckled sadly. "Of course. Where are my manners?" He picked up the glass, hesitated briefly, then knocked back a decent gulp. Surprise spread over his face. He put down the glass and wiped his lips, which were curling back into a snarl, revealing the points of his teeth.

"Don't you like it?" asked Orianna innocently.

The chair scraped as Regis stood up from the table. "The gods help you if you put in it what I think you have," said Regis in a dangerously calm voice.

Orianna held his gaze and drank deeply from her own glass. "And why, pray tell, should they have to?"

Regis said nothing.

"Can't hold your drink as well as you used to?" Orianna said, completely unfazed by Regis's quiet fury.

"I was saying that I don't know you as well as I once did. Let me continue the thought," said Regis evenly. "I did not know, for example, that you were practicing free-range human husbandry in Toussaint until Geralt told me. And this drink..."

Orianna sniffed. "Let's not get on our high horses yet. What would your witcher friend think about your youthful adventures?"

Regis looked away. "He knows. I'm not proud of it, but..."

"Then why," said Orianna, rising from the table herself, "has he set his heart on coming after me for doing the same thing in a much more measured and humane manner?"

Regis tugged on his bag strap and turned away completely. "So that's the real reason for your leaving Toussaint."

"Perhaps."

"What else aren't you telling me?"

"How I cared for the orphans. How they loved me. How they would have died on the streets without me. Died, do you understand? Died, instead of being slightly anemic." Orianna grabbed Regis's shoulder. He shrugged it away. She laughed derisively. "So I'm a monster to you, too? Regis, do you think you're a human? Because you act as if you are, but you are very definitely not one, and you will never become one."

"I have nothing more to say to you. Leave."

Orianna placed a hand on Regis's cheek. This time, he didn't move. She drew near and whispered in his ear. "I was hoping you'd remember your true vampiric nature. I was hoping you'd leave together with me... but I see where you've cast in your lot." A pause; Regis remained as still as a statue. "Farewell, Regis." Her familiar step echoed in the cellar as she left.

Regis turned back towards the table. The bottle and the glasses were still there. "Farewell, Orianna," he said softly after he was sure she'd gone. He picked up his glass, examined it for a little while, then set it back down and started up the stairway.

"And farewell, Toussaint, land of blood and wine..."


End file.
